


Fundamentals

by reigningqueenofwords



Series: New World Rising [3]
Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 19:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords





	Fundamentals

The next morning we emerged from the house, my senses on high alert. Morgan had lent me some clothes, which looked funny on me. I was grateful, however, as it was a lot more comfortable than that hospital gown. “Are we sure they’re dead? I have to ask, just one more time.” I looked at Morgan.

“They dead. Stuff’s gotta be in the brain, that’s why it’s gotta be the head.” It was my first time dealing with these things head on. I had a protective shield over my face, and a bat in my hand. This was going to be rough.

Quietly, the three of us made our way down the stairs. We were halfway down the front walk when the walker leaning against the white picket fence moved. It twitched slightly a couple times before it started to growl and get up. I wasted no time, swinging the baseball bat with as much force as I possibly could. Twice. Three times. Over and over. I was taking my rage out on this shell of a ‘person’. I doubled over, grabbing my bullet wound. I felt like I was going to throw up or pass out. “You alright?” Morgan asked, sounding slightly concerned.

“I need a moment.” Was all I said.

* * *

Walking into my home, I dropped the helmet that I had been wearing. “They’re alive.” I said, no doubt present in my voice. “My brothers and father.” I moved through the house, just as I had my whole life. “At least they were when they left.”

Morgan and Duane followed me into the dining room. “How can you know?” Morgan asked. “By the look of this place…” I could tell that he was just trying to be realistic and logical.

“I found empty drawers in the bedroom. They packed some clothes, not a lot, but enough to travel.”

“You know anyone coulda broken in here and stolen clothes, right?”

I pointed above the mantel and looked around. “You see any framed photos on the wall? Neither do I, some random thief take those, too, ya think?” I asked. “Our photo albums, family pictures, all gone.”

Morgan had a big grin on his face, but his eyes were sad as he began to laugh. “Photo albums.” He laughed, sitting down. “Our mom, same thing! Here I am packing survival gear, she’s grabbing photo albums.” His smile fell, and I could tell he was having trouble holding it together.

I looked between him and Duane, and it was Duane who spoke up. “They’re in Atlanta, I bet.”

“That’s right.” Morgan agreed, like he was just remembering this now.

“Why there?”

Morgan looked up at me. “Refugee center- huge one they said. Before broadcasts stopped. Military protection, food, shelter. They told people to go there. Said it’d be safest.” Something told me he didn’t believe them.

“Plus, they got that disease place.” Duane added.

“Center for Disease Control. Said they were workin’ out how to solve this thing.”

Without another word, I walked into the other room. Opening a cabinet, I grabbed a set of keys to my father’s work. He was a cop, so he had keys to the department.

* * *

Morgan, myself, and Duane stood in one of the locker rooms. I reached out and turned on the shower. “Gas line’s been down for maybe a month?” Morgan noted.

“Station’s got it’s own propane system.” Reaching under the spray, I nodded. “Pilot’s still on.”

I showered at the farthest stall while Morgan and Duane were at the other end. I grinned hearing how happy they were. Duane was hysterical laughing while he whooped and hollered, and Morgan was just relieved.

After the shower, Morgan helped redress my side, which was feeling a lot better. We were sitting on a bench in our towels, and I handed Duane some clothes. “Dressing room’s back that way.” I pointed. “Atlanta sounds like a good deal.” I said as Duane went to change. “Safer, anyway. People.”

“That’s where we were headed. Things got crazy. I mean, you wouldn’t believe the panic.” Morgan told me. I was pretty sure that I could believe. The dead were walking the streets! “Then…then our mom couldn’t travel. Not with her hurt. So, we had to find a place to lay low. And then after she died- we just stayed hunkered down.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Guess we just froze in place.”

“Time to move on.” I said gently, knowing that losing someone you cared about was hard.

“Haven’t worked up to it yet.” He said, almost like it strained him to admit it. And that was the last word said on the subject, each of us dressing in silence.

* * *

Opening the locked up armory, I stepped in, thankful for who my father was. “A lot of it’s gone missing.” Which really wasn’t shocking.

“Can I learn to shoot?” Duane asked.

Morgan looked to him. “Hell yes you’re gonna learn. You gotta learn carefully- teach you to respect the weapon.”

I had learned to shoot at a young age, just as my brothers had. “That’s right. It’s not a toy. You pull the trigger, you have to mean it. Always remember that.” As we moved around, I pulled a gun from the cage wall and handed it to Morgan. “Take that one. Nothing fancy, but the scopes accurate.” I checked out the condition of the other weapons while Duane loaded up on ammo.

* * *

Jogging up the stairs, I carried the bags of weapons in each hand. “Conserve your ammo. It goes faster than you think. Especially at target practice.” I made my way to a police cruiser and Morgan handed a bag to Duane.

“Duane, can you take this to the car?”

Duane walked off and Morgan took off his hat, resting it on the trunk. “You sure you won’t come along?” I asked. If Atlanta was better, why not?

He rubbed his head. “Few more days. By then, Duane’ll know how to shoot, and I won’t be so rusty.” He shrugged slightly.

Opening the door of the cruiser, I leaned in and grabbed a walkie. Handing it to Morgan, I was clear. “I’ll turn mine on a few minutes every morning at dawn. When you get up there, that’s how you find me.” He’d helped you so much that you wanted to know he was still safe.

“You think ahead.”

“Can’t afford not to. Not anymore.”

He stopped me. “One more thing. They may not seem like much one at a time, but in a group, all riled up and hungry? Man, you watch your ass.

“You, too.”

We shook hands. “You’re a good one, man. I hope you find your family.”

“I’ll be seein’ ya, Duane.” He told him, shaking his hand. “Take care of him.” All three of us turned to see a walker headed towards the gate we were behind. Morgan grabbed his gun automatically. “Neil Basset. Didn’t think much of him. Careless, and dumb…but I can’t leave him like this.” I walked towards the fence with purpose, raising my gun. Putting it against his forehead, I pulled the trigger. I watched as his fingers continued to grip the fence, his body slowly falling.

Morgan pulled out of the parking lot before me, turning right. We each signaled a goodbye to the other as I turned left.

Towards Atlanta.


End file.
